She had even told me she could only stay a few days. Goddamn, it had been years since I’d had a girlfriend, one that I was really attracted to. This...was supposed to be a summer just for myself. What a pickle I’d gotten myself into. In the refrigerator, all that remained was a single beer. Not even a frozen dinner for tonight. On the counter was an empty bread bag. I pulled my clothes on and then drove to the small grocery store five miles up the road toward the bridge. It was maybe the third. "Please, Mr. Hughes. I—I want you." Mr. Hughes smiles at her. You're too young, too stupid to realize that childhood will be the best time of your life. That growing up is overrated. That adults are far crueler than children can ever be. "What is it you want, exactly? I need to know, Miss Moore." " Everything." The rose-colored glasses you wear blind you to the fact that this isn't real. When you're older you'll see his soft demeanor for what it is—a disguise. His smile will seem more. More

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